


For the Honor of the Flag

by a_cuddly_dragon



Category: Honor Harrington Series - David Weber, Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossover, Gen, Trekverse, and all the bridge crews too, honorverse - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-17 14:42:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9329657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_cuddly_dragon/pseuds/a_cuddly_dragon
Summary: What if Honor Harrington and Jean-Luc Picard met?





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is not meant to be a serious fic. This is just me playing out my wish fulfillment fantasy in public. The idea came to me, and it wouldn't stop niggling at me until I sat down and wrote it. But then I got it into my head that it had to actually have something resembling a Plot.  
> Time fix: mid season fiveish for TNG, around book eightish with alterations for the Honorverse. So, beware of spoilers.

            “Citizen Captain.”

            Citizen Captain Edward Sable of the People’s Navy of Haven stiffly turned to face the man he loathed. “Citizen Commissioner Talbot. Something you need?”

            Talbot grinned widely back. “I certainly don’t _need_ anything, but I would appreciate it if you would join me for dinner later. I haven’t seen you much lately, it’s almost like you’re trying to avoid me.”

            Sable gritted his teeth in a grin. _Not_ almost _, you ignorant fop._ “I would never do anything of the sort. What time shall I be ready?”

            “Oh, nineteen hundred hours should be fine.” Talbot turned and called to someone behind Sable. “And Citizen Commander Lu, you should join us as well! I’m trying a new recipe tonight!” he continued in a sing-song tone of voice. “Now I must be off, I do have other duties to attend to. See you both at nineteen hundred!” Talbot moved to the lift at the back of the bridge in what could only be described as a strut.

            As soon as the political officer was out of sight, the captain relaxed. “Citizen Exec, how are you doing on analyzing those simulations?” He walked to the miniature tactical display to lean over Lu’s shoulder. Edward Sable was not a particularly tall man, only reaching 171 centimeters in height, but he towered a full head over Marie Lu, who only had 146 centimeters of height to her name.

            In a clear voice, the ship’s executive officer replied, “I’ve finished my analysis, Citizen Captain, I’m just cleaning up my report before I submit it now.” In a lower voice meant only for her captain, she added, “Do you think he’ll label us traitors in his reports if we find excuses to bow out?”

            In the same tone, Edward said, “Worse. He’d start using terms of endearment again.” Both officers shuddered. “We don’t really have much choice, Marie. We both know he’s the real one who commands the ship.”

            Lu gave him a brief look at the use of her first name, but turned back to her plot. “I’ll be there.” In a louder, but still conversational, tone, she said, “My report will be in your queue within five minutes. Will that be all, Citizen Captain?”

            Sable stood up straight. “Yes, Citizen Commander. As you were.”

            “Citizen Captain, I have some odd readings from our RDs.” The tactical officer waved him over to her display. “I can’t pin it down, though. It’s definitely not a glitch, I checked our systems three times, but it’s not an impeller signature of any kind. Just thought you’d want to know, ah, Citizen Captain.”

            Captain Sable raised an admonishing eyebrow at her. Some ships might be able to scrape by when personnel neglected to use the proper revolutionary form of address, but Citizen Commissioner Talbot never missed the slightest syllable of “elitist” talk and showed up to the offender’s quarters with an entirely-too-cheerful smile. “If you think this anomaly is important, _Citizen_ Lieutenant, then by all means, keep me apprised. I expect to be the first one to know when you figure out what it is.” He clapped a hand on her shoulder, and turned to leave. “Get me a report in my queue tomorrow by oh-eight-hundred.”

 

* * *

 

 

            PNS _Cortez_ had one small modification that set it apart from its _Conqueror_ -class light cruiser sisters. A Legislaturalist had pulled strings to get his son larger quarters than standard, on the grounds that he needed the extra space for his tactical library. As a result, the captain’s quarters were half again as big as usual, but strangely had never been graced with a single book. Post-Revolution, however, the previous captain had been shot simply because he was born a Legislaturalist, and Citizen Commisioner Talbot had seized upon the space gleefully. No one dared to challenge him. This meant that at nineteen hundred hours, Citizen Captain Sable and Citizen Commander Lu were waiting outside a room that was a third of the way aft of the bow out of the _Cortez_ ’s full one thousand meters. Sable resented being pushed out of the captain’s quarters, adding significantly to his dislike of the onboard political officer. He didn’t care about the space, and had a habit of keeping any personal quarters as Spartan as possible.

            “The captain is supposed to be the closest to the bridge lift in case of emergencies,” Sable grumbled softly. “Bastard’s already in control of the ship, does he have to rub our noses in it like this?”

            “Careful, Edward,” his executive officer warned him. “Don’t let hi-“

            The door whisked open. “Welcome!” Talbot spread his arms wide. “You’re precisely on time. Good to know that military precision helps with manners. Do come in.” He almost bounced to the side of the door with nigh-manic energy.

            The two officers hesitantly crossed the threshold when a chime cut through the air.

            “Now who could be calling so rudely?” Talbot frowned, but entered the command to accept the call.

            “Hello, Citizen Commissioner,” said an obviously out-of-breath lieutenant. “Is the Citizen Captain there? I know he wanted me to put in a report, but this can’t wait.”

            Edward Sable walked over next to Talbot and peered at the screen. “What is it, Citizen Lieutenant Finnigan? And why, exactly, can’t it wait until the morning?”

            “Sir! I was going over the data on the anomaly after my shift, and I finally figured out what it is!” She hesitated for a brief moment, as if realizing her slip-up, but charged forward. “It’s very different than all the ones we’ve seen before, but once you strip away all the noise, it’s clear.”

            “Get to the point.”

            “Right. Sir, it’s a wormhole! A completely undiscovered wormhole!”

            Talbot dropped his smile, and his look of shock mirrored Sable’s. “You’re sure of this, Lieutenant? Send me the data right away.”

            “I’m sure, sir, but I’ll put my analysis in your queue.” Finnigan turned white, as what she had said finally caught up with her.

            “That will be all.” Citizen Captain Sable cut the comm. “Well, do you think it’s true?” he asked incredulously.

            Talbot pulled out a microcomp and began typing furiously. “I don’t know, but I’m not waiting for her to put her analysis in my queue to look at the data. Aha!” His eyes scanned the lines of text, at first rapidly, then slowing, and finally coming to a stop. “She’s right,” he said in a whisper. “She’s right.”


End file.
